Hollywood Nights
by The Narwhal Ninja
Summary: Puck has left everything in the dust and gone to California, where he meets the girl of his dreams. But is she everything he thinks she is? Can he go home after meeting her? Loosely based on Bob Seger's "Hollywood Nights."
1. Chapter 1

**Good evening, my dears. Thank you for choosing this fanfiction. You won't be disappointed - I hope. This is set about five years after Puck graduates. It's based loosely off of Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band's song "Hollywood Nights."**

**I own absolutely nothing~ Just so we're all aware.**

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><p>He kicked the flat tire. Typical, the tire that goes flat when you're just out of walking distance from your destination. With a string of profanities, he ran his hand through his hair. For once, he had decided to let it grow out. Figured that it would get him gigs if he didn't look like some greaser. It was now just touching his eyebrows and was rather wavy.<p>

His foot connected with the tire one last time before he trudged back to the cab of his old truck. He withdrew all of his possessions - a guitar, his backpack full of things essential to living, and the remainder of the two liter of soda he had bought back in Nevada. He figured that he could thumb down a car or something en route to his destination.

Unfortunately, no one seemed to want to help poor Noah Puckerman. So he ended up walking the twenty or so miles in the scorching California heat. The only thing that kept him going was the smell of the ocean. How he wanted to see the ocean. Growing up in podunk little Ohio meant that he had never really seen the ocean, except for when his glee club went to New York. But looking at The Statue of Liberty from the airplane didn't count. No, he wanted to see the real thing up close and personal.

Plus the added benefit of the ocean: Where there was an ocean, there was a beach. And where there was a beach, there were bikinis. Loads and loads of bikinis. Bikinis as far as the eye can see. Sure there are always a few fat men in Speedos, but what was a little mental scarring compared to the lifelong memories of Malibu Beach Bunnies?

Oh yes, the beach would be amazing.

Being the middle of the week and early enough in the morning, there weren't as many bunnies as he had wanted. Nonetheless, there were a few bombshell blondes that took one look at him and upped their noses.

Having suffered massive ego depletion, he began wondering just why the hell he had done this. As he dropped his stuff in the sand and growled with defeat."This is stupid. I shouldn't have done this. I should have just taken that job with Finn and stayed home," he said as he glared at the blue waters, which now seemed to be mocking him.

Just as he had convinced himself that it was high time he take his sorry tail back to Lima to resume being a loser, he saw something. It was a beautiful brunette who was sitting on the hood of a car in a flowing white dress. She looked like she had just stepped out of a Whitesnake music video.

Never had he seen something so beautiful.

She flashed a smile in his direction and slid off the hood of the car. She said something to a crew of camera men and strolled over toward him. "Can I interest you in a glamor shot?" she asked. "It'll last a lot longer."

Puck fumbled with words. She laughed softly. "I'll be done in about five minutes. Can I expect to see you in the same general area?" she asked. He managed to nod and she smiled at him. "See you in a few," she said, walking back to the car.

The next five minutes were agony. He wasn't sure what to do. He should really be looking for some place to stay, looking for some way to get his truck fixed, and further more looking for a career. But the only thing he wanted to do was to see her again.

Sure enough, about five minutes later she was back. She was wearing a pair of denim shorts and a black tank top. But she still looked just as beautiful as she had on top of that car. "So, dear, can I ask you for your name?" she asked.

"Noah," he managed to speak.

"You always this flabbergasted?" she asked, ruffling his hair. Before he could answer, she took his hand. "I'm Katrina," she said. "And I think it's safe to assume that you just got here."

"I, uh, yeah," he replied.

"You have a place to stay?" she asked. He shook his head. "Well, my hotel room has an extra bed," she told him. "I'm always willing to help a new guy get on his feet."

"Really? But you barely know me," he said. "I could be a serial killer or something."

"Small town thinking, eh?" she asked. "Honey, I'll let you in on a little secret. Most of the time, girls like me would rather that they shared a room with a serial killer. These model types can get pretty catty." She tugged him toward the water. "Come on, you need to get some salt in your hair," she giggled. She let her bare feet make footprints in the wet sand and flashed him one of her smiles. He looked into her soft eyes, so innocent and blue. And he knew right then that he was too far from home.

She led him across the golden sand and they watched the waves tumble in. If one thing mesmerized him more than her, it was the waves. They would stand there, neither one speaking, just watching the water roll in and tickle their toes. Finally, she spoke up. "Get your stuff," she commanded. He did as he was told and brought them over to the car she had been laying on earlier. "Is this yours?" he asked.

She smiled proudly. "Yup. Built it myself. 1969 Mustang. She's a beauty," she said as she tossed his stuff in the back, next to what seemed to be a week's worth of wardrobe. "Get in, sweet heart," she said to him as she came back up to the driver's seat.

They drove for miles and miles on a seemingly forgotten highway. They were laughing and singing along to the radio - an old Bob Seger song about that old time rock and roll. Higher and higher they climbed up a familiar looking hill. Finally they pulled up near the big Hollywood sign. He stoped singing to take it in. "Magnificent, isn't it?" she asked him as she jumped out of the car. He nodded and turned his head to the view that the hilltop overlooked.

"It's.. Pretty cool," he said, finding the charm that had escaped him earlier in the day. He turned around to see her hunched over the trunk of the car.

As he was about to get out he heard her say, "Stay right where you are, handsome. You don't know me well enough to be allowed to see me change."

"And I suppose all of LA can?" he asked her. He heard a slight commotion not too far from behind the car as a divider was set up.

"This may be my home," Katrina said as she stepped behind it, "But all homes have crazy relatives. Even I wouldn't want to be seen in a swimsuit in front of those types."

He rolled his eyes. Just when he thought he would be able to see something - anything - a girl goes and screws it up. Within seconds, she was back out wearing a white dress that looked like it belonged on Marilyn Monroe. "I'm sorry that I'm having to incorporate my work schedule into your grand tour," she said, pulling a mirror out and applying cake loads of bright red lipstick. "But a struggling model needs to make ends meet. Plus, I don't really think you care."

He got out of the car as she leaned on the hood. "So, what is it you want to accomplish in this town?" she asked him.

"Oh you know, become a musical phenomenon," he said, standing in front of her. "Rake in the dough and disappear before I can really crash and burn."

She laughed lightly. "You and 72% of this town. Let me tell you, all of the money is in the music producing business, not the performing." She paused when she saw the look he was giving her. It wasn't a happy look, but it wasn't quite angry either. It was more like determination fueled by years of being told that he will amount to nothing. She bit her lip and then said, "But, if you're really something, I have a few friends higher up with certain companies who I can call."

He raised an eyebrow but noticed a billowing dust cloud behind them. Several vans full of hot women and cameramen pulled up. One of them clapped his hand on Katrina's shoulder, smiling widely. "Kat, this is going to be perfect. I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier." Katrina smiled widely at her photographer and greeted all of the women that had gathered there.

If they noticed Puck, they didn't make it apparent. The girls were all arranged and several shots were taken. Before long, they were all done and changing behind several screens. Except one - a hispanic woman who had been staring Puck down inbetween shots.

"Puckerman," she said hesitantly. "I can't believe you've escaped Lima."

The voice clicked instantly. "Santana, how the hell did you - "he started.

She hushed him. "Not now, loser," she said. "That girl you're with, Katrina, she's trouble." Puck cocked his head. "What do you mean?" "You know what a femme fatale is, right?" Santana asked him. Puck's blank gaze was answer enough for her. "Well, it means that this girl is going to be the end of you."

"I think I can handle myself, Santana," Puck said to her.

"No, I don't think you're listening to me," Santana nearly growled, "When have I ever steered you wrong?"

"When you told me that Quinn couldn't get pregnant because she was loosing her virginity," Puck replied dryly.

"Rookie error," Santana said.

"When you told me that letting Beth watch Halloween would be okay because she was too little to understand what a serial killer was."

"That was bad parenting on your part," Santana replied.

"Need I remind you of the jalepeno fiasco during the senior trip?" he asked.

"Fine, fine, I've steered you wrong on several occasions, God!" she shouted, clearly loosing her patience. "But I'm not lying this time. Lima Losers got to stick together. Don't hang out with this girl."

"Noah!" Katrina shouted, waving to him. "Hey, you want to go to dinner tonight?"

"Say no," Santana urged.

"Sure!" Puck shouted back.

"You're going to regret this," Santana hissed as she strolled off.

She and Katrina exchanged icy glares as they passed one another and Katrina hopped in the car."Coming, dear?" she asked. He shrugged and flipped a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. She flashed a smile at him, "Why were you talking to Santana?" she asked nonchalantely.

"Old friend, we grew up in the same town, went to the same school, blah blah blah," he replied.

She nodded, seemingly relieved."Don't believe a word she says about me," she advised. "She hates my very soul."

Puck shrugged. "Santana isn't one to like people." Katrina put the car into gear and they drove down the hilltop, both singing whatever songs happened to play on the radio.

They enjoyed dinner at a little family owned restaraunt, Puck telling jokes to make her smile. She introduced him to several of her friends and soon enough Puck was feeling right at home. Then it came time to pay for the dinner.

"Kat, you've charged so much on your tab," the waiter said. "You really need to start paying it off."

"I know, I know, Damon," Katrina said. "I've been shooting all week. I should get paid next week."

"Are you sure - " Damon started. She flashed him her pretty blue eyes and a sincere smile. "Oh, what's a few extra dollars?" he asked. "See you later, kid."

Katrina beamed at him and lead Puck back out. "Tomorrow morning, we start fresh. I don't have a shoot and I can track down my producer friends," she promised. She drove up to a nicer looking motel and tugged his hand up the stairs. She stopped short when they saw a red thong hanging on a door knob. "Son of a bitch," she growled.

"What, what's the problem?" he asked.

"My former roommate appears to be back in town. I thought she was going to stay in Vegas this time," Katrina muttered.

"Well, I could rent a room for the night," Puck suggested. "You bought me dinner and what not, it's the least I could do."

"You mean that?" she asked.

"Hell yeah," Puck stated.

"Thanks so much, Noah!" she shouted. They ran back out to the car and drove to a different hotel - a little more expensive than the one Katrina called home. Puck didn't care, it was only for a few nights. The room was nice enough, only with one bed though. "I don't mind," Katrina said, "I can sleep on the floor. I've slept in worse."

Puck had other ideas in mind though. Once the two were in the room, he shut the door and smiled at her. "I don't think you should sleep on the floor," he said softly.

She looked up at him with inquisitve eyes. "You have other arrangements?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I have a couple ideas," he replied with a crooked smile. In a flurry, their lips locked and Puck got the sweetest kiss ever bestowed on him. The two tore at eachother's clothes, and the fabric fell away. He carried her to the bed, all the while kissing her. Everything about her was perfect to him. Santana's words were gone with each touch, every breath. His life in Lima was gone. He didn't care if he made it big or not - he wanted to spend every moment with her.

And as the clock struck midnight, they broke apart, still in each other's arms and utterly satisfied. "You're something else, Noah," Katrina whispered to him, her head nuzzled into his neck, where her bright red lipstick had left stains. He pulled her closer to him.

"Santana was wrong," he said to her. "You're only the begining of me." Her eyes were closing as he said this. He wasn't sure if she had completely heard him. He didn't care. He let his eyes close, glad that his truck had broken down earlier that day.

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><p><strong>"<em>Santana was wrong..." <em>OR WAS SHE? *dramatic music* xD**

**The second part should be up in a day or two.**

**REVIEW~ PLEASE~ I'll love you forever if you do~ 3**

**-The Narwhal Ninja**


	2. Chapter 2

**And now, the exciting conclusion (Unless I think of more things to write) to "Hollywood Nights." Santana makes another appearance and we get to hear from Beth! Huzzah! Even though NO ONE reviewed my first chapter, I will post the second chapter.**

**I feel awful because I finished this right as tonight's episode started and PUCK WENT AND SCREWED EVERYTHING UP. _**

**But, whatever, I guess this could "sort of" work. **

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><p>Empty. That's what Puck's arms held when he opened his eyes. "Katrina?" he asked, squinting in the late afternoon light. No reply. He looked around the room for any sign of the woman of his dreams. He called out her name again. Her clothes were gone. Her car keys weren't on the nightstand. Absolutely nothing.<p>

Instead of assuming the worst, he merely chalked it up to her running out to find her music friends. Or she was kicking her roommate out. He had slept late. She wouldn't leave him.

He tossed his clothes back on and got some money from his backpack. He took to the streets, humming a tune. He stopped in a shop and bought a cup of coffee. As soon as he sat down, none other than Santana walked up. "Hey, Puckerman," she teased, "where's your girlfriend?"

Puck took a sip of coffee, trying to avoid the question.

"She left you, didn't she?" Santana sneered. "What did I tell you?"

"Shut up, Santana," Puck growled. "She's just off finding some music producers for me to talk to."

Santana rolled her eyes. "She's finding... Oh my God, you believed that?" Puck furrowed his brow. "Katrina only knows the bastards that she fucks."

"That's not true," Puck interjected.

"Oh really? How many women in this town have said 'Hi' to her?" Santana asked. "Face it, Puck, she played you."

"No she didn't!" Puck insisted.

"Oh, really?" Santana asked. "What did you do last night? Oh, wait, let me answer that for you... Her! Puckerman, I told you that she's trouble."

"She's not trouble! She's sweet!" he shouted.

"That's bullshit and you know it." Santana took a sip of her coffee. "Katrina's already in Vegas. How do I know? She has a new deal there - some big time casino hired her. She skipped town - walked out on all of her tabs. The only reason she didn't go to her room last night is because that's where everyone would look for her this morning."

Puck's jaw dropped. He had been used.

"Still think you can handle yourself in this town?" Santana asked. Puck simply got up and numbly walked out. He walked all of the way back to the beach where he had first seen her. He collapsed on the sand, staring blankly up at the sky. Even though Santana was still rambling on, nothing could purge his mind of the thought of Katrina. The way she had looked on the hood of her car. The wind ruffling her Marilyn Monroe dress as she stood in front of the Hollywood sign. The jewels sparkling on her neck during the Hollywood shoot. The way the afternoon sun had kissed her skin on the beach while they had left footprints in the sand. Her laugh. Her smile. Everything about her. She was all he could think about.

The sun was setting when he got up and began walking back to his hotel. Santana was still following him, but he didn't hear a word she said. She followed him into his room, which was sparkling clean. He walked through the room and to the balcony overlooking the city. The sun had disappeared and all he could see were the lights. There was a gentle breeze and he sighed. Santana had finally shut up and the two were just looking out at the lights.

"It looks surreal from up here. Like this really is the city of the angels," Santana commented. "Yet, just down there is where most kids are crushed."

"I won't be crushed," Puck said coldly.

"Puckerman, you don't belong here," Santana said as gently as she could.

Puck rolled his eyes. "I can't go home. I don't belong there."

"No, Puck, Kurt didn't belong there," Santana said. "Rachel didn't belong there. Neither did Mercedes. They were all stars. We were just some kids in a glee club."

"I can be a star too," Puck said with little determination.

"Puck, you could be a lot of things. But should you be those things?" she asked him. "Listen to Santana: Me and Brittney, we can make it as models or singers in clubs. You would never settle to be a singer in a club. You would never settle to be just a guitar player in a garage band. You're one to go big or go home." Puck nodded and let her continue. "You have the star power, but you have other options. You don't have to be a worldwide phenomenon. There's at least one person in this world who would love to have you as her star." Santana pulled out her phone and started scrolling. She showed Puck a picture of Katrina. "And this isn't her."

He growled inwardly. "Does this monologue have a point?" he asked. He was shown another picture. This one was of him in high school holding a little girl with blonde curls.

"Here's my point. You could have had everything you wanted during our senior year. You just wanted to spend time with her. Where is that Puckerman?" He turned his eyes back to the Hollywood lights. He had told everyone that the only way he was coming back from California was in an urn. He was going to make something of himself. He wasn't going to be a Lima Loser.

"Brittney and I have everything we could ever want in this town," Santana said quietly. "But you left behind the best thing you ever had." Before Puck could say anything, Santana had walked back in the room. He sat down and looked through the bars of the balcony. Now, it looked like he was looking through the door to a jail cell.

"I can't go back. They'll all call me weak for not following through with my plans," he muttered to himself. "I'll never live it down. I'll never live her down."

His mind flickered back to the fight he and his mother had the night he had left. "Noah, I don't understand why you want to just leave us behind," his mother had said.

"It's a star thing, Mom, you wouldn't understand," Puck had said, brushing her off and heading toward the door.

"Why can't you just find a nice girl to settle down with, hmm?" his mother had asked.

"Mom, I'm not the marrying kind," Puck explained.

"What about my granddaughter? Are you just walking out on her too?" his mother had shouted.

"Mom, you leave Beth out of this," Puck snarled.

"Why? She's almost five, she will notice that you're gone!" she had shouted back.

"She has Shelby. She'll be fine!"

"I can't believe that you - of all people - would say such a thing!"

"Mom, it was different for me!"

"How? Did you have a father growing up?"

"Well, no - "

"Did your father go off to become a rockstar?"

"Yes and - "

"Then I don't see the difference! Noah, you're smart and she thinks you're a star! Shouldn't that be enough?"

Puck was silent for a moment. "Beth may be my baby. She may be the light in my eyes. But I don't need to be here and drag her down," he said slowly as he turned toward the front door.

"Noah Puckerman, if you walk out that door, you will never be allowed back in!" his mother threatened.

Puck paused and turned around to face his mother. "I'll send you tickets to my first concert," he growled, opening the door and walking out.

The Hollywood sign seemed to mock him now. It had been a year since he had talked to his mother - it really shouldn't take a year to drive to California, but he was easily distracted and nearly lost everything he owned in Vegas. But now he was here and he could never go back - win or loose, he was California's problem now.

Something hit the back of his head and then clattered to the ground. His cell phone had a particular contact pulled up - Shelby. "Call her and talk to Beth," Santana commanded.

"She'll never let me - " Puck started, but Santana's glare cut him off. He dialed the phone and waited for Shelby to pick up.

"Hello? Puck?" Shelby asked.

"Yeah, it's me," he said. "Is Beth still up?"

"Puck, it's almost eleven," Shelby yawned.

"I know, I know, I just... I need to talk to her," he said. "I'm sober, I promise."

Shelby sighed loudly and Puck could faintly hear a child's voice. "Mommy, Simba woke me up."

"You're in luck," Shelby said into the phone. "The cat must have gotten in her room."

Puck smiled, anticipating the conversation with his daughter. "Beth, baby, Daddy's on the phone," Shelby said to the child.

"Hi, Daddy!" Beth squealed into the phone. "Guess what! Mommy bought me a real kitty! His name is Simba and he's orange. And Simba likes to sleep near my dolls. And he hates getting wet! I dropped a glass of water on him and he hid under the couch for the whole day! He's really grouchy. And I drew a picture of Princess Ariel! She has pink hair, 'cause I broke my red crayon. And I saw Other Mommy at the store today. She bought me a lollipop!" Puck knew that when she said "Other Mommy" she meant Quinn.

Suddenly, Beth changed the topic, "Where are you?"

"I'm in Hollywood, baby," Puck said to her.

"Really? With Elmo?" she asked. Puck chuckled a yes to her. "Daddy, when are you gonna come home?" she asked.

"I don't know, baby," Puck replied.

"Can you come home soon? Like, tomorrow?" she asked.

"I don't think I can make it tomorrow," Puck said. He could almost hear her frown.

"Why not?" she asked.

"It's really far away," Puck explained.

"Well, how about the day after tomorrow?" she asked.

"Maybe," Puck promised.

Beth cheered. "Mommy, Daddy says that he'll be home the day after tomorrow!" she shouted to Shelby. "I can watch The Little Mermaid with him again!"

Shelby laughed lightly. "Say good-bye to Daddy," she said.

"Night night, Daddy! I love you!" Beth said into the phone.

"I love you too, Beth," Puck said, a smile still plastered on his face.

Shelby was given the phone. "Sounds like you have a hot date," she chided him.

"Yeah, yeah, I wouldn't miss The Little Mermaid for the world," Puck replied, saying good-bye and hanging up.

Santana was facing him. "What did I tell you? You don't need this. You don't need girls like Katrina when you have a girl like Beth. Now, you get out of here. You go watch The Little Mermaid and give my best to the rest of you losers."

"I don't have any way to get there," Puck said, remembering his broken truck. At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

"Santana," Brittney said, "I have the ticket!" Puck opened the door for her and she gave him a plane ticket straight to Columbus, Ohio. He gave both of the girls hugs.

"Thanks, guys," he said. "I'll send you some pictures of Beth."

The next morning, he was on a plane back home. Katrina was just a figment in his memory. All he could think about was scooping his baby girl up in his arms and singing "Under The Sea" with her. His Hollywood nights were over.

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><p><strong>Ta-da~ What did you think? Should I continue it? Should I just leave it here? I had a faint idea as to what I would do next, but then this last episode of Glee WENT AND SCREWED UP MY IDEA. <strong>

**Oh well, I'm just glad I finally (sort of) finished something! xD**

**Live long and prosper - The Narwhal Ninja**


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